


Spring is Coming

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Hand wavy magic, Hand wavy science, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers - Freeform, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Nebula, Tags Subject to Change, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, and holds exactly nothing back, as in bucky and steve are in a relationship, everyone wants to protect tony, immediately post the movie, no seriously happy ending, no spoilers for endgame, not team Cap friendly, protective winter soldier, sharing of a bed, team civil war iron man, that Winter is very much NOT interested in being part of, the snap still happened, tony stark picks up strays, winter is pretty blatant in his dislike of steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: When Tony returns to Earth, he finds out that Bucky Barnes died in the Decimation.The Winter Soldier, however, did not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission formed from a teaser I threw up on tumblr.

It took three days to get back to Earth after Thanos snapped his fingers. In the end, impatient though he may have felt at the time, Tony ended up being grateful for the additional time. Nebula was quiet company, to the point where he sometimes forgot she was even on the ship, and the downtime gave him the opportunity to pull himself back together. He couldn’t let himself grieve. Not right now. They had to focus on putting a stop to Thanos once and for all. Grief could come later, when Iron Man wasn’t needed.

They landed the Milano – Quill’s ship, Nebula had said, with a twist of her mouth that looked like pain – right behind the Compound. It would be safe enough there, since the Compound wasn’t housing anyone at the moment. Tony led her down the gangplank and, together, they walked inside. There was a thick layer of dust over everything, and an eerie silence pressed down on Tony’s ears. 

“You can stay here if you want,” he said out loud, needing to break the silence. Nebula seemed like she was lost. He didn’t know much about her, but she’d followed him back to Earth without argument and hadn’t made any move to leave once they got here. Tony could recognize someone who didn’t have anywhere to go pretty easily by this point in his life.

Nebula looked surprised by the offer. Her eyes darted around, scanning the hallway. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“What do you want in return?” she clarified. 

That was a new one. Usually it was the other way around, with people wanting something from _him_. Tony thought about telling her that he didn’t want anything – or at least, nothing that she was capable of giving – but figured she wouldn’t believe him. That was fair enough. He considered the question for about ten seconds, long enough to make her feel like he’d given it adequate consideration but not so long that she would feel uncomfortable, before he responded.

“Security. I have enemies and the world is FUBAR right now. It wouldn’t surprise me if some crazy people come knocking,” he said at last. It would take a little while to get the Compound back up and running. Once he had FRIDAY up, he wouldn’t need her help. But it would give her something to do in the meantime.

She stared at him with a hard look, before nodding. “Fine.”

“Good. Great,” Tony said, suddenly exhausted. “There are loads of rooms. Pick any one you want. There should be canned food, or FRIDAY can order something for you…” He fumbled in a pocket and came up with a Starkphone that had seen better days, but which still worked because it was created by yours truly. He passed it into Nebula’s hands and stumbled off to his bedroom.

He thought he’d have trouble sleeping, or at least thought he’d wake from nightmares. But he didn’t. Tony slept deep and hard, the kind of sleep where it feels like you only just shut your eyes, and woke up to the sound of something crashing in the distance. He jolted upright and blinked for several long seconds, eyes sweeping the room like he expected to find someone there with him. There wasn’t, of course, but only then did it occur to him to realize the potential stupidity of falling asleep around Nebula when he had no warning systems in place.

Still, he wasn’t dead. That was a bonus.

He was terrifically dirty, though. And still in pain. He’d forgotten about the wound. He stumbled into the shower and, when he was done, examined it in the mirror. He wasn’t bleeding, but Thanos’s sword had gone straight through him. Though he’d patched himself up using what he’d found on the Milano, he was pretty sure he needed medical attention. Staring into the mirror, he made a vow to never tell Pepper or Rhodey that he’d passed out without finding a doctor first.

If Pepper and Rhodey were still alive, that was. He breathed through a fresh twist of grief, trying not to think about Peter’s terrified pleading, and shuffled back into the bedroom. It took a bit of searching, but he turned up an older model Starkphone he’d left behind when he moved out of the Compound and back to the tower. Tony switched it on with shaking hands and called Rhodey.

“Hello?”

Rhodey. Tony felt sick with relief. “Rhodey,” he whispered.

“Tony!” Rhodey exclaimed. “Oh man, thank god. I thought –” He cut himself off, letting out a shaky sigh.

“Pepper?” Tony asked, barely able to squeeze the word out.

“She’s okay. I talked to her this morning. Happy too.”

Rhodey and Pepper and Happy. Okay. That was - Tony could work with this. He shifted on the bed, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as quivery as he thought it might. “Everyone else?”

“It wasn’t good,” Rhodey said quietly. “Cap and Romanov made it. Sam, Maximoff and Vision didn’t.”

Shit. Tony had been expecting to hear about Vision. Thanos had been nothing if not ruthless when it came to the Infinity Stones. He supposed that Maximoff had tried to stand in the way to save Vision, since Vision was the only thing she really cared about. Sam Wilson was a slight blow, but moreso to Rogers than anyone else. At any other time, Tony might’ve felt some pity for him – but not now. Not after losing Peter.

“Wakanda’s in a state of uproar. T’Challa and his mother didn’t make it. That leaves Princess Shuri as the… the temporary leader,” Rhodey was saying. “It’s – it’s bad, Tones. The whole world is freaking the fuck out and no one knows nothing about anything.”

“I know,” Tony said, rubbing a hand over his face. He hadn’t missed the way Rhodey’s voice shook on the word ‘temporary’. He wanted to reassure his friend otherwise, but would that be a lie? Tony didn’t know yet. There was too much up in the air.

They spoke for a couple more minutes and then hung up. Tony immediately put in a call to his doctor, but didn’t get an answer. Perfect. He contemplated the situation for a little while and finally decided that, as much as he didn’t want to, he’d have to go to the hospital. He could patch himself up on the outside, but if there was internal bleeding he was fucked. He wouldn’t live through the battle with Thanos just to die afterwards.

When he patched the phone through to FRIDAY, she reported that Nebula was sleeping and had been for several hours. He left a message and found his way to the garage. He hadn’t built the Compound based on proximity to a hospital, since there were state-of-the-art medical facilities in the Compound itself, but FRIDAY told him there was one in the nearby town. Tony started the car and hoped that he didn’t pass out on his way to the hospital. 

It turned out he needn’t have worried – about any of it. 

“You say you were just stabbed a few hours ago?” the doctor said, leafing through a tablet. He, like everyone else that Tony had encountered, looked thin and worn. 

“Well, it may have been a day or two,” Tony allowed, eyeing the x-rays. 

“That’s not what our tests say.”

“… What do you mean?”

The doctor looked up at him, pushing his glasses up in a gesture so reminiscent of Bruce that it hurts. “Our tests indicate that, while you were stabbed and there was some internal damage, you’re well on your way to being healed. If I had to guess, I’d say you were stabbed at least six weeks ago, possibly longer.”

Tony blinked at him for several seconds before lamely responding, “That’s… huh.” How the hell did that happen? He sure as hell didn’t have any advanced healing abilities. So either the stuff he’d found in the Milano was incredibly potent, or Thanos had done more than just killed half of the universe when he snapped his fingers. For the sake of his own sanity, Tony immediately decided to run with the first theory.

“We can give you some mild painkillers, but really you don’t need medical attention,” the doctor said. “You don’t even need stitches. We’ll bandage you up again and you can be on your way.” He sounded remarkably blasé about what was a very unusual situation, but then again half of humanity had just disintegrated less than seventy-two hours ago. They all had bigger things to worry about.

He accepted the pain medication only because the nurse wouldn’t stop shoving it in his face and slunk out of the hospital with his baseball cap pulled low and the collar of his jacket high. At one time, the appearance of Tony Stark at a hospital would’ve been big news. Now, no one gave him a second look. They all had their own problems. He got all the way out into the parking lot without interruption. And while it was nice, it was also just one more reminder of how severely everything had changed.

His phone rang while he was on the way back. Tony answered it. “FRI?”

“The Winter Soldier is at the compound,” FRIDAY said.

It took a moment for the sentence to sink in. When it did, Tony automatically pressed the accelerator a little harder. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s standing at the end of the driveway and has been for the past ten minutes. I’ve advised Nebula not to interact with him,” FRIDAY responded. “But she’s been sitting in the window sharpening her sword for the past seven minutes. You should drive faster, Boss.”

FRIDAY sounded a little worried, maybe even a bit scared. Tony couldn’t blame her. Nebula had proven that she was a hell of a fighter in the battle with Thanos, and of course Tony had firsthand experience of just what Barnes could do. Mouth settling into a grim line, he sped up until he was going almost twice the speeding limit. What should’ve taken close to an hour actually took him less than thirty, and Tony could make out the man standing at the edge of the Compound’s driveway when he was still two minutes away.

Barnes turned his head to look at the approaching vehicle, but otherwise didn’t react. His posture was loose and open, not threatening, hands hanging at his side. Hand _s_ , because he had another metal arm, Tony noticed as he parked. This one looked a little sleeker than the one that Tony had blasted off in Siberia. He recognized the metal as vibranium, which meant it was T’Challa’s or maybe Shuri’s doing. Not surprising. Tony had known where the other Avengers were from day one.

He slowly opened the car door and emerged, wishing that he’d thought to fix the nanobots before he went to the hospital – Thanos had given them a hard time. He stayed close to the car, even though he knew that, if Barnes wanted to kill him, no car was going to stop a super soldier. His heart was pounding, ready for the moment when Barnes would cross the distance between them and – 

And what?

The seconds ticked by and no one moved. Finally, hating himself for being the one who broke, Tony spoke. “What are you doing here? Where’s Cap?”

“In Wakanda,” Barnes answered readily.

“I’m not sure I believe that. After what he did for you, I don’t see him letting you out of his sight.”

“He wouldn’t let _Barnes_ out of his sight, no. But Barnes is dead.”

Oh. Tony’s mind went blank for an appallingly long time. He stared at Barnes – no, at the Winter Soldier. Split personality disorder? Was that even a thing outside of television shows? Tony didn’t know. But since the Winter Soldier was standing there claiming Barnes was dead, Tony was going to go with a resounding yes. He didn’t know whether that information made him more or less nervous, and chose to remain silent.

“Died when Thanos snapped his fingers,” the Soldier went on, as casually as though they were discussing coffee preserences. “Rogers was so happy to see me standing there at first. He got a lot less happy when he figured out his boyfriend had died and I was left behind.”

Tony winced at that, even as a small part of him flushed with satisfaction at the thought of Steve in pain. “So why are you here?”

“Rogers didn’t want me,” the Soldier said calmly. “He wants his boyfriend and I’m not him.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“You’re the only other person I know.”

Ouch. Tony wasn’t sure what to do with that either. He supposed it was true in a weird way: it wasn’t like the Soldier was going to want to go back to Hydra. Barnes’s interactions with the world would have been limited to Cap, his team, and the scientists and doctors in Wakanda. The Soldier had to know that Tony wasn’t going to be thrilled to see him, so his options must have been pretty limited if he’d come here anyway.

“So what,” Tony said, “you want me to invite you in for a cup of tea?”

The Soldier hesitated. “I don’t know if I like tea. Barnes never tried it that I’m aware of. But he liked coffee?” He looked at Tony, like that was an answer, and all Tony wanted to do was repulsor the Soldier in the face for making him feel even a hint of sympathy.

But damn it all, it wasn’t _right_ to hear someone casually talk about the fact that they didn’t even know if they liked tea.

“Fuck my fucking life,” Tony muttered. He stepped away from the car and slammed the door. “Come on. Let’s go see if you like tea.” He stalked towards the Compound without waiting to see if the Soldier was following. He was sure that the Soldier was, because the hair on the back of his neck was prickling uncomfortably.


	2. Chapter 2

Nebula met them at the door, sword in hand, eyeing the Winter Soldier. “Do you have work for me?” she inquired.

“No,” Tony said, though he was half-tempted to say yes and let them duke it out. See who won. He would put money on Nebula. The Soldier was strong and had experience, but Nebula was fast and _angry_. If he pointed her at a target right now, there was no way that target was coming out of the experience in one piece.

She frowned, but stepped back to let them in. “Friend of yours?”

“No,” Tony said again. “This is the Winter Soldier. And this is Nebula.” He watched them size each other up. Nebula wasn’t familiar enough with Earth customs to offer her hand, and the Soldier didn’t hold his out either. Tony figured that was as good as it was going to get and left them both standing there, heading towards the kitchen. Now that he knew he wasn’t bleeding out internally, his stomach was growling with hunger. 

He padded around the kitchen, searching the cupboards for food, and came up with three boxes of pasta and a jar of tomato sauce that would make for a passable meal. He put a pot of water on to boil and then stood there for a long moment, hands tight around the edge of the counter, staring at the backsplash. It was just beginning to sink in that he’d invited one of the world’s deadliest assassins in for tea.

But what else was he supposed to do? Send the Winter Soldier packing? At least if he freaked out here and tried to kill them, Tony was reasonably sure that Iron Man and Nebula could stop him. Plus, it was pretty hard to turn away someone who had no where else to go. He thought of the flat look in the Soldier’s eyes when he said that Steve hadn’t been happy to find out he’d survived and cursed under his breath. Fucking Steve. 

“Once again, I’m stuck cleaning up their messes,” Tony muttered, wrenching the lid off the pot. He dumped in the three boxes of pasta and moodily began to stir, wishing Steve was here so that he could dump the pot over his head instead. It wouldn’t do much damage to a supersoldier, but it would sure as hell make Tony feel better.

He heated up the tomato sauce in another pot and added some garlic and onion powder. They’d need food. FRIDAY could put in an order for them at the nearest supermarket to have it delivered, though it was entirely possible the people who owned and manned the nearest supermarket were dead now. He squeezed his eyes shut and banished that thought, focusing on stirring the pasta.

When the pasta was cooked and the sauce was warm enough, Tony dumped the mess onto three plates. He gave the Soldier the biggest portion, followed by Nebula and then himself. When he entered the dining room, holding the three plates, he found Nebula and the Soldier sitting at the table silently eyeing each other. They hadn’t tried to kill each other, so Tony considered that a point in his favor. He set a plate down in front of each of them and sank into the closest chair, which conveniently left him equally far away from them. 

“This is good,” Nebula said, sounding surprised.

Tony frowned at her. “No, it’s not. This is shitty pasta.”

“I like it,” Nebula said, like a challenge, and speared several noodles and shoved them into her mouth.

“You need to try good, homemade pasta,” Tony muttered into his bowl, glancing at the Soldier. “It’s not poisonous. Eat it.”

“I didn’t think it was,” the Soldier said mildly, finally selecting a single noodle. He lifted it to eye level and examined it like that one penne noodle held the secrets of the world. It struck Tony then that the Soldier had probably never had pasta before either, and a weird mixture of pity and anger held him in place as the Soldier delicately bit the penne noodle in half and chewed thoughtfully.

Which meant Tony was in the perfect position to see the way the Soldier’s eyes brightened as the taste impacted his senses. He obviously liked it, because he scooped up an even bigger forkful than Nebula and chowed down. Tony stared at him, at a complete loss as to what to do with this international assassin who was acting like a kid tasting their first meal. All over shitty, store-bought pasta and tomato sauce that was on the wrong side of expiring.

What even was his life now?

Nebula and the Soldier ate like they were having a contest, both of them finishing their generous portions in less than seven minutes flat. The only other person who Tony had ever seen eat that fast was Bruce, right after he’d Hulked out after not eating for a whole day, and Steve. It couldn’t be healthy, but then he was hardly the expert on super soldier and alien metabolism.

“What’s the price?” the Soldier asked. Sauce stained the corners of his mouth.

“What?” Tony said, trying to decide if he wanted to eat the rest. He stabbed two noodles with his fork and ate them unenthusiastically.

“For the meal. What’s the price?”

“What?” Tony said again.

“He needs bodyguards,” Nebula spoke up. “Because he has enemies and they might take this opportunity to attack while everything is in a state of unrest.”

The Soldier considered this for a moment, then said, “Very well. I’ll be your bodyguard too.”

Tony promptly choked on some sauce.

“I can guard his body just fine,” Nebula said, narrowing her eyes.

“You’ll have to spend time learning about Earth,” the Soldier countered. “Besides, you have blue skin. You can’t go everywhere with him without drawing unnecessary attention.”

 _Everywhere with him_?! Tony may have made a sound not unlike a cat whose tail has just been stepped on. Both the Soldier and Nebula glanced briefly at him, then returned their attention back to each other. Tony stared at them in increasing disbelief as he listened to them squabble. There was no heat behind their words; actually, they sounded like a couple of little kids who were bickering just for the sake of it. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m out,” he announced, throwing his hands up and vacating the table. He walked quickly out of the room. “FRIDAY, did that really just happen?”

“Yes Boss,” FRIDAY said, sounding far too cheerful for Tony’s tastes.

“Right. Okay. Right.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “Try to make sure they don’t kill each other. And put in an order for food. The same order you were putting through when Rogers and the others were living here, I guess.” He had no idea what Nebula and the Soldier liked to eat, so a basic order of everything would do. He suspected neither of them would complain so long as they had food and lots of it.

Life at the Compound existed in a weird sort of bubble for the next seven weeks. The only person Tony saw other than Nebula and Winter, as the Soldier decided he would like to be called, was Rhodey. Their reunion was emotional and consisted of both of them crying into bottles of beers by the time all was said and done. Unfortunately, as much as Tony would’ve liked for Rhodey to stay, the military needed all hands on deck right now to help cope with the disappearance of half of humanity. He regretfully saw his friend off and made an extra donation to the military to help. 

Nebula, Tony quickly discovered, like to be left to her own devices. She struck up a fast and fierce friendship with FRIDAY; Tony caught her literally interfacing with FRIDAY more than once by plugging wires from FRIDAY’s mainframe into her body. She developed a fascination with watching television and seemed to like trashy old horror movies the best, the campier the better.

Winter, on the other hand, didn’t like to be alone, and for whatever reason he preferred Tony’s company over Nebula’s. More than once Tony would lift his head from a working binge to find that Winter was sitting quietly on the old couch in the corner of his workshop. The first time it happened, Tony almost had a heart attack. FRIDAY’s quiet admonition that Nebula was asleep and Winter had been searching for company after a nightmare was the only thing that had kept him from tossing Winter out.

Why he didn’t kick Winter out the second time… well, that was a question Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to ask himself. He didn’t even know if he had an answer. It helped that Winter was a very quiet companion, apparently content to sit and read while Tony worked. But it was a little creepy to know that an assassin, particularly the assassin that had killed his parents, was sharing a room with him. 

It was just… Winter wasn’t dangerous. That was the only conclusion Tony could draw. T’Challa and his sister Shuri had done excellent work in removing the code words that would make Winter the actual Winter Soldier again. Without Hydra to be the driving force, Winter didn’t seem to have any interest in killing or violence. He wouldn’t even spar with Nebula, even though she did her damndest to annoy him into it. FRIDAY reported that Winter never went to the training grounds, never touched any of the weapons freely available in the Compound, and that the only time he touched a knife was in the kitchen when he wanted to slice up an apple. 

Maybe it was dumb. Maybe it was too trusting of him. But Tony was tired, and he didn’t want to squabble or fight with anyone anymore if he didn’t have to. Winter may have been Hydra’s creation, but you would never know it to see the way he squinted and struggled over the New York Times crossword puzzle. People could change. Tony had. And he needed all of his anger right now to be directed at Thanos.

One morning, when Winter wasn’t around, Tony came to a natural stop in his upgrades to the armor. He straightened up, rolling his shoulders, and caught sight of the couch out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly curious, he stood and  
walked over to check out the stack of books that Winter had accumulated. A quick glance found there to be a lot of gardening books, along with some romance novels and a few fantasy books.

“He likes gardening?” Tony said to himself, putting the books back in the order that he’d found them. “FRI? Where did these books come from?”

“Some of them came from Vision’s old room. The others were from Barton’s room,” FRIDAY replied.

Barton? That must have meant the gardening books were Laura’s, then. Tony suspected she wouldn’t need them. He knew that Laura Barton had survived the Decimation, but two of her three children had not. At Laura’s tearful request, Tony had pulled some strings to have the two remaining, law-abiding Barton's moved across the country to California. Last he’d checked, Laura had been trying to make a life for herself and her kid in a new city.

“Do you think…” Tony trailed off.

“Do I think what?” FRIDAY asked after a moment.

“Do you think that Winter would actually want to do some gardening?” Tony asked hesitantly. 

“He does seem to have an interest in plants. I’ve noticed him looking at the gardens,” FRIDAY said.

The untended gardens. Tony thought for a moment, then said, “Save my progress, FRI.”

“Done, Boss.”

He left the workshop and wandered upstairs to find Nebula squinting at a pot on the stove. Whatever was inside smelled kind of grey and soapy. Tony almost opened his mouth to ask, but Nebula was watching the pot with such unnerving accuracy that, in the end, he decided that it was better not to ask. He could always buy another pot, or, barring that, another stove.

Winter was in the living room, flipping through a magazine. He paused when Tony walked in and said, somewhat hesitantly, “Good morning.”

“Is it?” Tony said, honestly baffled. He looked outside and saw that yes, the sun was in the middle of rising.

“It’s 7:26am,” Winter replied. No condemnation, no ‘Tony why didn’t you go to bed?’, no scolding. Just a simple answer of the time. No wonder Tony didn’t mind having him around.

“Right. Well, good time for this, I guess. I want to show you something; come on.” Tony beckoned and walked out, trusting that Winter would follow. And sure enough, Winter did. Tony led him outside and around the back of the Compound to where the garden shed was. He was positive Winter was already aware of its presence – Nebula and Winter, between the two of them, probably knew the Compound better than Tony himself did – but he also knew Winter well enough to know that Winter would not have ventured inside without permission.

Unlike _some people_ , Winter could respect a lock.

“I know there’s a bunch of gardening stuff in here. Feel free to use it to your heart’s content,” Tony said.

Winter’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Well, no one else is using it. And the gardens are probably dying without someone to attend to them.” That was Tony’s fault. He hadn’t bothered to find someone else to do landscaping. “You might as well.”

“Really? But what if I…” Winter trailed off, looking uncertain.

“If you kill everything, I’ll buy more,” Tony said briskly. “Everyone starts learning somewhere. I’ll have FRIDAY sign you up for some gardening magazines. That should help. And she can look up anything you need to know.”

Winter looked at Tony like he had never seen Tony before and breathed, “Thank you.”

For some reason, Tony’s face warmed. “You’re, uh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, looking away and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Have fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

The stupid, shitty phone that Steve had sent in the mail started ringing on a Thursday morning. Tony, who was in the middle of trying to figure out whether the Iron Man suit could turn invisible, squinted at it and shook his head. Dummy, good ‘bot that he was, helpfully grabbed the phone and pitched it across the room. Unfortunately it didn’t break into a billion pieces, but continued to ring.

“Are you going to answer that?” Winter inquired.

“It’s Rogers,” said Tony.

Winter stilled in a way that Tony had quickly grown to realize meant danger, regardless of whether it was Winter or Nebula, and stood. “Allow me to destroy it.”

“Ugh, wait. This might actually be important.” Tony got to the phone first, scooping it off the floor. He opened it and put it to his ear. “What.”

“Tony,” Rogers said. The flesh on Tony’s arms prickled. Rogers sounded way too relieved and he didn’t like it. Sometimes he tried to figure out what it would be like if he saw Rogers and the other Avengers again, and he was ultimately torn between two scenarios. Scenario A was where things between them were openly volatile and they all hated his guts. Scenario B was where Rogers tried to pretend like nothing had happened and everything was well.

It looked like they were going with scenario B then. Great.

“What do you want?” Tony said coldly. It seemed he wasn’t too tired to hold a grudge against some people.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why would you care?”

“Tony, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” Tony shook his head even as he spoke. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. I’m fine. We done?”

“No! Wait, I –” Rogers hesitated for several seconds.

“Hanging up,” Tony said.

“It’s the Winter Soldier,” Rogers blurted out, and Tony froze. “Bucky, he – something happened when Thanos did his thing. He was – he was _gone_ and the Winter Soldier was left. He attacked us. He broke Wanda’s arm. Then he escaped.”

Tony covered the mouthpiece to look at Winter. “You broke Wanda’s arm?”

Winter nodded, unrepentant. “She is a Hydra agent. I don’t like her.”

“I like you,” Tony said, wishing he could’ve been there to see that. He was sure that the look on that brat’s face had been absolutely priceless. 

“Tony! Tony!” Rogers was barking in his ear. “Who are you talking to?!”

Tony looked at Winter, raising his eyebrows in silent query. With his accelerated hearing, Winter could hear every word of their conversation without even trying. He knew what Steve was asking, and, as far as Tony was concerned, it was his choice as to whether or not Rogers knew that he was here. If he didn’t want Rogers to know, Tony would happily lie about it. 

After a slight pause, Winter nodded.

“I’m talking to Winter,” Tony announced, giving Winter a slight smile.

“Winter? You mean the Winter Soldier?!” Rogers was definitely panicking. The spiteful part of Tony thoroughly enjoyed the moment.

“Yes. I don’t know any other Winter’s,” Tony said.

“Tony! This is no joke! He’s dangerous! What the hell is he doing there?!”

And really, there was only one answer Tony could give to that. In the most deadpan voice he could muster, hoping that Winter wouldn’t kill him for it, he said, “I’m fucking him.”

Dead silence.

“Or rather, he’s fucking me. I guess it depends on the day,” Tony went on. “But it’s all the same in the end. Either way, it’s none of your goddamn business. Don’t call here again, Rogers. I’m destroying this phone. If you need me, you make an appointment through FRIDAY like everyone else.”

He hung up just as Rogers began to sputter. It was immensely satisfying to be the one cutting the metaphorical tie this time. Tony smiled down at the phone and wondered how he should destroy it. Give it to Nebula so that she could deconstruct it? Let Winter use it for target practice? Have Rhodey drop it on the bomb range? Melt it down for scrap metal? The possibilities were endless.

The phone started to ring again, vibrating in his hand. Tony switched it off. He had nothing else to say to someone who would pretend to be his friend for _years_. When he thought about all the times he and Rogers had shared a meal together with the team, or the hours they'd spent talking about how best to utilize the skills of everyone on the team, it made his blood boil all over again. Not once had Rogers even thought about telling him the truth, of that Tony was certain.

No, if Steve Rogers had his way, he would've brought Bucky Barnes back to New York and made him a part of the Avengers without Tony ever being the wiser. He wasn't even sure that Barnes would've fessed up, because he didn't know if Barnes even remembered what had happened. They would've just been a big happy team, as though this horrible secret wasn't hanging over them. _That_ was what hurt the most, out of everything: the realization that Rogers had never been his friend, but had only ever seen Tony as another utility to be used. 

He sighed and dropped the phone on his desk, figuring he'd get rid of it later, and turned. Then he let out a surprised yelp and staggered back a step. Winter was right behind him, so close that their faces were inches apart. So close that Tony could make out the grey flecks in his pale blue eyes. He brought up his hands instinctively, suddenly realizing that Winter might not have appreciated Tony's comment about the two of them fucking, and swallowed hard. Thus far Winter hadn't been violent at all, but Tony was keenly aware that those hands could snap his own neck like a twig.

Then Winter said, "I like you too."

"Wait. What?" Tony said, blinking, because that was the absolute _last_ thing he had expected to hear Winter say.

Rather than respond with words, Winter leaned in and kissed him.

 _Kissed him_.

Him!

Tony Stark!

Right on the lips.

Tony's brain blue screened. That was the only way to describe it. For what was probably only a few seconds, but which felt like long minutes, he stared into those blue eyes. Information was processed through his brain at a snail's pace: Winter's lips were surprisingly soft and tasted of strawberries. He didn't touch Tony in any other way. His eyes were actually beautiful. And then, just as Winter broke the kiss, Tony realized that he had been kissing Winter back. 

"I don't have much to compare against, but I believe you're what they would call a good kisser," Winter said, with a smile that was absolutely cheeky.

"I - what?!" Tony sputtered.

"I liked that too," Winter added. "Do you think FRIDAY could hack into Wakanda's servers and get a picture of the look on Rogers's face when you told him we were having sex? Because I'd really like to have it."

"I'm already working on it, Winter," FRIDAY piped up. "I figured you and Boss would want a copy."

"Great, thanks Friday." Winter flashed Tony one of those rare smiles that left Tony's mouth completely dry, and then turned and walked out of the workshop. He kept up a casual conversation with FRIDAY the whole way, as though he hadn't just fried the brain of Tony Stark.

After several stunned seconds, Tony said, "What just happened?"

"Would you like me to give you a play by play?" FRIDAY asked.

"No! That's - that's quite alright, thank you." Tony ran both hands through his hair. Winter had kissed him. That was a thing that had happened. But no matter how many times he turned it over in his head, it didn't seem to make sense. 

Deciding that he needed to talk to Winter, he stormed out of the workshop and took the elevator up to the common floor. But instead of finding Winter, he found Nebula sitting alone at the kitchen table. She was staring at a container of lime green jello with such intensity that he half wondered if she was trying to mentally set it on fire. For all he knew, that was a thing that Nebula could actually do. Just when he thought he was starting to know her, she'd whip another trick or talent out of her seemingly endless repertoire that left Tony at odds again.

"What?" Nebula said, sensing his stare.

"Where's Winter?!" Tony demanded.

"I think he said something about gardening. Are you sure this is food? FRIDAY says it is, but it's very... slimy." She poked the container to watch the jello jiggle.

"Yes, it's food. Winter kissed me." Tony didn't know why he'd told her that, but if he was hoping for a dramatic reaction he didn't get one. Nebula rolled her eyes up to meet his gaze, one raised eyebrow speaking volumes.

"And?"

"What do you mean, and?!"

Nebula shrugged a shoulder. "You two stare at each other the same way that Gamora and her idiot boyfriend used to stare at each other," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "I thought maybe you were already fucking."

Tony stared. "We do not!"

"Oh yes you do," Nebula and FRIDAY said in such perfect unison, it was honestly creepy.

"We do not," Tony repeated, though it was far weaker this time. 

"You do," Nebula replied, looking back down at her jello. "Seriously? This is food?"

Tony sighed and strode over to the table. He grabbed her spoon, took some of the jello, and popped it into his mouth. Lime green wasn't his favorite flavor by far, but it _was_ an indicator of how far he and Nebula had come: three months ago, she wouldn't have hesitated to stab or electrocute him for stealing food from him. Now, she merely sat back and cocked her head like Tony was a particularly fascinating specimen.

"See? Food?" Tony said, swallowing. 

"Humans are very odd," she said. "Why are you upset that Winter kissed you? You like him."

"I don't -" Tony began, then stopped as realization dawned on him: he couldn't say that he didn't like Winter because that would be a big fat lie. When the hell had that happened?!

Nebula smirked. "What was that?" She put her spoon into the jello.

"Shut up," Tony said. "Holy shit. I like Winter. I actually _like_ him." He kind of wanted to clutch at his hair and run through the Compound screaming, but Nebula and FRIDAY would just record it to make fun of him later. 

"I didn't know you didn't know," Nebula said. "FRIDAY, are all humans this obtuse?"

"Yes," FRIDAY confirmed.

"Oh my god," Tony said. "FRIDAY, you're supposed to be on my side."

"I can be on more than one side," FRIDAY said.

"Just remember, I don't want to hear any screaming when you do start fucking," Nebula said, licking her spoon. 

"I hate you both," Tony muttered, quickly retreating from the room. He was pretty sure he heard Nebula laughing as he went.

It was a grey, drizzly day that greeted him when he went outside, but Tony didn't care. He made his way over to where Winter's gardens were located. Sure enough, Winter was on his knees in a patch of dirt. He was bent down, examining a spot, which meant his ass was sticking up in the air. And what a nice ass it was, Tony thought dazedly, unable to tear his eyes away. He'd noticed before that Winter had a very nice body, but he'd never allowed himself to pay more attention. He'd wasted a lot of time.

"I can feel you staring," Winter said without looking up.

"Yeah, well, you kissed me. That means I get to stare."

"I didn't say you couldn't." Winter looked over his shoulder with a faint smirk.

"You kissed me," Tony said again.

"Well, after you told Rogers that we were fucking each other, I figured you wouldn't mind."

"I didn't," Tony admitted. "You could even kiss me again. You know, if you wanted to."

It turned out that Winter did, in fact, very much want to; Tony hadn't seen Winter move that fast in a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

When it happened, Tony wasn’t even aware of it. In retrospect, that sounded stupid. But he hadn’t spoken to Rogers or any of his crew in nearly five months at that point, and, possibly more important, he and Winter were comfortably enclosed in Tony’s bed. Winter was leaning over him with darkened eyes, hands pressed against Tony’s bare chest. His lips moved against Tony’s neck, slowly creating a bruise. Tony was trying to stay still, but it was impossible when Winter left him wanting _more_.

And then the door flew open and Nebula ran in, hand already clasped over her eyes. “Stop fucking! I have news!”

“Nebula!” Tony squeaked in dismay as Winter fairly flew off of him, leaving Tony wet, sticky and _very_ disappointed. He groped for the covers but Winter had already grabbed them, so settled for sitting up and pulling a pillow into his lap. 

“Are you decent?” Nebula asked, not trying to hide her smirk.

“I hate you,” Tony muttered. 

“Tony,” Winter said disapprovingly. “Nebula wouldn’t have interrupted us if it weren’t important.” He shoved several strands of blue-streaked hair out of his eyes. About two months ago, he and Nebula had made a visit to the nearby town. Winter had returned with several chunky blue streaks in his black hair, while Nebula was sporting a brand new tattoo on the back of her scalp. It was a series of green and purple, overlapping concentric circles that stood for her sister, and that was all she’d said on the matter. 

Tony tracked the movement of Winter’s hands unconsciously, feeling a renewed ache in his lower half. With effort, he tore his eyes away to look at Nebula. “What’s wrong?”

“Thanos has fallen,” Nebula said somberly, her smirk disappearing.

“What?!”

He leapt out of bed, heedless of his nudity, and grabbed for the remote. Tony turned it on and stared at the screen. There was a breaking news bulletin. Hundreds of thousands of people had reappeared out of nowhere. Some people had caught footage of it happening with their cell phones, and it was literally like people just… magically appeared. Like dust on the wind, coming back together too fast to be seen, Tony thought with a gulp.

“Turn the volume up,” Winter requested quietly.

 _“This just in, we have a special report coming in from Captain America himself,”_ the news reporter said. She looked badly shaken. Her pale face vanished, replaced with that of Captain America.

Tony didn’t know what to expect when he saw his old teammate again. Anger? Fear? Pity? Surprisingly, as he looked at Rogers’s weary face, he felt… nothing. A twinge, maybe, for the days when it would’ve been Iron Man up there standing beside Captain America instead of the Black Widow, but that was it. 

_“People of Earth, Thanos is dead,”_ Rogers announced. _“The battle was very long and very hard, but the Avengers have come through for you. We reversed the Decimation. Everyone who died thanks to Thanos has come back to life.”_ He smiled out from the screen, blue eyes glowing. _“In the end, Earth’s heroes came together. Thank you for believing in us.”_

Whoever was holding the camera panned it around to reveal what looked like an actual battlefield, though wherever it was, it was clearly not Earth. Tony caught a glimpse of several SHIELD agents, Thor, two more Asgardians, Black Panther, Barton, Wilson, a petite woman with blond hair, Lang, the Vision, Maximoff, Barnes – his breath caught, and he whipped his head around to look at Winter in shock. Even Winter looked shocked, his eyes wide. 

“FRIDAY, go back to Barnes,” Tony blurted out, and FRIDAY obeyed. The screen showed that split-second image of Barnes, who was clearly watching Rogers and not paying any attention to the camera whatsoever. Barnes looked like a man who had been through the ringer. He was thin, with straggly hair and a bruised face. Compared to Winter, who was healthy with bright eyes, they were day and night.

“How is this possible?” Nebula asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “They shared a body originally… right?” He turned to Winter.

“Yes, though Barnes wasn’t fully aware of my presence,” Winter said, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. “He thought that the Winter Soldier died when the code words were removed from his brain.”

“You must have separate bodies now,” said Nebula. She sounded so casual, when really that sentence turned Tony’s life upside down. He’d spent the last several months trying not to fall in love, because there was always the risk that Winter would disappear. Barnes and Winter sharing a body would _never_ work, he knew, and he suspected that Barnes would ultimately have won that fight, even if only because of Winter’s lingering guilt.

Maybe he didn’t have to worry about that after all.

His first task was reaching out to May. Tony couldn’t have described how relieved he was to find that Peter was amongst those who had been saved. He made plans to visit New York bright and early tomorrow morning, after May tearfully said that Peter had collapsed into bed after consuming enough food to feed a dozen men. She sent him three pictures of Peter. Tony might have cried.

In the twenty-four hours that followed, they learned that what Rogers said wasn’t exactly true: not everyone on Earth had returned. People who had died because of Thanos’s direct actions had returned, yes. But those who had died because of him indirectly did not. People who had been on airplanes whose pilot had vanished. People who had been in car accidents because drivers were suddenly gone. People who had been in hospitals when their doctors disappeared. Those people weren’t so lucky.

Tony sat in the living room, watching the news in silence. He supposed that they should’ve expected this to some degree: nothing ever worked out perfectly. That wasn’t life. But that made it no easier to watch the footage of all the devestated families who had been expecting to find their loved ones miraculously returned to life. What could you say to those people, who had gotten hope for a few shining moments that was just as quickly squashed?

He wondered to himself if his presence in that final battle could’ve changed. The details of what had happened hadn’t spread yet, but the omission of Iron Man was not by mistake. No, that was Rogers’s way of making it clear that he no longer considered Tony an Avenger. Possibly even payback for that comment about Tony and Winter fucking each other, depending on how petty Rogers could be.

Nebula and Winter expected him to be mad about that, he could tell. But he wasn’t. Tony was _tired_. Tired of fighting. Tired of taking the blame for everything. Tired of struggling to atone for things when it seemed like all he ever did was add more deaths to his ledger. Was he pissed that he hadn’t gotten to face Thanos on the battlefield again? Not really. So long as Thanos was truly dead, Tony didn’t give a shit who had swung the sword. He couldn’t hurt anyone, and that’s what mattered.

“Boss,” FRIDAY said. Tony startled, lifting his head. 

“What’s up, FRI?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. He was half-expecting her to say that Rhodey or Pepper were on the line, probably wanting to know all the details. 

“Rogers is trying to make an appointment with you.”

Tony blinked, and then made a face. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” FRIDAY said without missing a beat. “Shall I let him?”

“Just… put him through.” Tony sighed and straightened up, wondering if he was about to be asked for money. It wouldn’t surprise him. Rogers’s crew never had been pardoned, though that would probably happen now – another reason that Iron Man was purposely left out, no doubt. But in the meantime, depending on T’Challa’s kindness, they’d probably need weapon repairs, new armor, and medical attention.

“Tony!” Rogers said. 

“Hello, Rogers,” Tony said. “I see you won. Congratulations.” He sounded, he thought, very sincere, probably because he really meant it. Captain America and associates had saved the world. They were owed their kudos for that, regardless of what else they’d done.

There was a beat of silence, and then Rogers said, “Oh. Thank you. I thought – you’re not angry we didn’t call you?”

Tony snorted. “Why would I be?”

Another pause, longer this time. Tony smiled to himself. He could just imagine what they’d vitriol they’d been tossing around to each other. Maximoff would be dancing in glee to think that they’d slighted Tony. Barton would be convinced that Tony was angry at the loss of fame. Romanov, always convinced she knew all, would say that Tony’s pride would be stung. Rogers had probably called expecting Tony to be either hurt or furious or both. No doubt he had some dumbass plan in mind to use Tony’s emotions to try and smooth over the wound between them. Problem was, that wound had deepened into a _gaping chasm_.

“I, well, we didn’t it on purpose,” Rogers said carefully, which was such a fucking lie that Tony had to bite back a laugh. “It was unexpected… before we knew it, this was the end. By the time I figured that out, there just wasn’t time.”

“Sure,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Like I said, congratulations. You’ve saved a lot of people.”

“Right,” Rogers said. “Uh – I also wanted to say – I know Bucky’s back, so the means the Winter Soldier is, well…”

Ah. Rogers was pettier than Tony could have guessed, if he was really calling to rub that in Tony’s face. He crossed his arms, taking a few seconds to think over his response. Rogers clearly thought that the Winter Soldier was gone, or maybe that he had rejoined with Bucky. There was a slight chance he was trying to offer condolences, but Tony thought it much more likely that Rogers was being his typical arrogant self and was planning to give Tony some spiel about how it was for the best.

“It means that the Winter Soldier is having a delightful time fucking Tony,” Winter said. Tony jumped, having not heard Winter come in, and turned to look at him in surrpise. 

“What – he – you!” Rogers sputtered.

“Oh yeah, Winter is still here,” Tony said innocently, deciding that he might as well roll with it. He grinned at Winter. “You did me a solid, Rogers. Thanks for making sure I’m going to keep having _really awesome sex_ in the future.”

The silence this time went on for at least thirty seconds. Tony put his finger over his lips and winked at Winter, who was smirking. Then, suddenly, the line disconnected. The dial tone came through for a moment before FRIDAY cut it off. Tony gave in and exploded into laughter, rolling back against the couch and cupping his stomach. Winter started to laugh too. They must have laughed for about fifteen minutes solid before Tony had to stop because it was beginning to ache.

“That was fucking perfect,” he said, wiping away a few tears. “Oh my god.”

“I’ll never know what Barnes sees in him,” Winter said, moving to sit beside Tony. 

Tony shrugged. “Eh. I suspect that when Rogers was a tiny scrap of a thing, he was a lot easier to handle. Barnes was in up to his ears before he knew any better. Once you’re into it like that… it’s not always easy to let go. Those two will be co-dependent on each other until the day they die.”

“I’m so grateful I don’t have to be a part of that,” Winter said, so fervently that Tony smirked. He turned to face Winter and found that Winter was already looking at him. Their eyes met.

“You know… you could stay here, if you wanted,” Tony said.

“Of course I am. You think I could leave my garden in your hands?”

“Wha – hey!”

Winter just leaned forward and kissed him, which was, Tony had to admit, a pretty effective way of shutting him up. He went with it, tangling his hands into Winter’s hair. The kiss turned heated pretty quickly, and he felt Winter’s hands prying at his tank top. They separated so that they could remove their shirts – a necessity, because Tony had discovered that Winter was prone to ripping his clothes off if he wasn’t divested of them fast enough.

He slipped off his shorts and boxers and scooted back against the couch, opening his thighs. There was a hungry look in Winter’s eyes as he prowled forward, and Tony was just about to tell him that he would need to go find some lube when Winter settled in front of Tony on his knees. He took both of their cocks into his metal hand, rubbing them against each other.

“Oh,” Tony breathed, feeling a renewed jolt of arousal. Yeah, okay, this wasn’t going to last long.

“I’m glad,” Winter said softly, staring into Tony’s eyes. “I’m glad I get to stay.”

Tony bit his lip, holding in a moan, then leaned forward and impulsively bit at _Winter’s_ lip. He felt more than saw Winter smile, before Winter kissed him again. But all too soon Winter’s lips slipped from Tony’s, and he kissed his way down Tony’s jaw until he found his way to Tony’s neck. Tony arched his head, letting Winter have free reign. Pepper would murder him if she saw all the marks later, but who cared?

“Ah, Winter!” he cried out; it hadn’t taken Winter long to figure out exactly what Tony liked, and he knew that a thumb pressed lightly and then dragged up was a big weakness. His nails dug into Winter’s shoulders and he let out a thin whine as he came.

Winter’s hand moved faster then, trying to achieve the same release. He whispered, “I’m close” like it was a secret.

“I’m glad you get to stay too,” Tony whispered back. 

Winter grunted, hips stuttering forward, and fell into Tony’s arms. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d just run for miles. Tony hugged him, running his fingers through Winter’s hair. It was so soft, and it smelled like strawberries because Winter had scoffed at Tony’s ‘manly’ shampoo and had bought his own, fruit-scented shampoo from the salon where he'd gotten his hair dyed.

They sat there for a little while, until Tony’s heart rate, at least, had calmed back to normal. Usually he liked to take his time with sex, but the quickie had been just what he needed to work through the lingering tension from his chat with Rogers. He was loose-limbed now, heavy-eyed and pleased, and could tell from the way that Winter curled against him that Winter felt similarly.

It was only when the stickiness got to them that they separated; Winter went into the kitchen, still naked, and brought back some wet paper towels. Since Nebula didn’t follow yelling about nudity in the kitchen, Tony assumed that meant she was elsewhere. He realized as he cleaned himself up that he hadn’t seen much of her since word had spread about Thanos.

“Have you seen Nebula?” he asked Winter.

“I’ve been with you,” Winter pointed out. “Why?”

Tony shrugged. “Just a feeling.” He stood and pulled back on his boxers and jeans. Winter, looking curious, got dressed and followed.

FRIDAY told them that Nebula was up on the roof, which didn’t surprise Tony. Nebula had always liked being up on the roof, particularly at night: he assumed that it was because she missed space. He and Winter took the elevator to the top floor and then the stairs up to the roof, and found Nebula sitting much closer to the edge than was really good for Tony’s blood pressure.

She didn’t look around at them, so Tony wasn’t sure if they wanted. But Winter didn’t hesitate to walk over and take a seat beside her on the left, so Tony followed and sat on her right. Heights had never made him nervous, but he was conscious of the grass far below. Looking at the stars above them was almost worse, though. Those stars had stolen a lot from him.

“Are you going back?” he inquired, curious. Winter had no where else to go, but Nebula had the Guardians. They would come for her, he was sure, if she wanted them to.

But Nebula shook her head. “My sister didn’t die in the Decimation,” she said quietly. “Thanos killed her in order to obtain the Soul Stone. There is no coming back from that. Not when you’re a sacrifice.” She clenched and unclenched her fists in her lap.

Tony glanced over at Winter, only to find that Winter was looking back with a helpless expression. Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Nebula…”

“Don’t,” she said. “He’s dead now. I just… I wish I could have killed him myself.”

“It may have made you feel better,” said Winter, sounding thoughtful. “But at least you can take solace in the knowledge that he is still dead.”

Nebula looked up and shot him a small smile. “Yes. I hope it was painful. I hope he suffered.”

“I think we all hope for that,” Tony admitted. “If anyone deserved a death like that, it was Thanos.”

“So will you stay?” Winter asked hopefully. “Tony still needs a bodyguard. You know how hopeless he is at taking care of himself. He doesn’t recognize a danger until it’s staring him in the face.”

“That is so not true!” Tony exclaimed.

“You’re right. I’ll stay,” Nebula said to Winter, ignoring Tony entirely. “He would be dead within hours if it weren’t for the two of us.”

“I can’t believe I put up with this,” Tony muttered, though he wasn’t nearly as offended as he was making himself out to be. It was actually good to hear Nebula teasing him. He thought, hoped, that meant she would be okay.

“You like it. You’re a glutton for punishment,” said Nebula.

“He certainly is,” Winter purred, winking at Tony, and Nebula groaned.

“Gross no, none of that,” Nebula said, making a face. “Or I’ll push you off the roof.”

Winter lit up. “Do it! I want to see if I can hit the ground –”

“No!” Tony yelped. “No jumping off the roof!”

“But it wouldn’t hurt,” Winter said.

“I bet it wouldn’t,” Nebula said thoughtfully. Tony groaned as, at the exact moment, she and Winter shoved themselves off the roof. He leaned over to watch them land – perfectly, of course, in a way that should’ve been impossible for any human, but then again Nebula and Winter weren’t exactly human – and sighed to himself. He had the feeling that living with the two of them was going to be _interesting_.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know I said this fic was finished. But I recently had to buy a new computer, and so this epilogue is sort of my thank you to everyone who donated to help me get it. And also, more salt is always a good thing.

"I don't like it."

"Believe me, no one likes it," Tony said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. Out of sight, he rubbed at the base of his neck. The tension building up there was unbelievable, but, considering what was going to happen, he supposed that he was fortunate that was all he was dealing with.

Rhodey's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. "I don't want you near them."

"I have to be. I am still an Avenger, technically," Tony pointed out. He heaved a sigh as he looked around the room. The meeting wasn't supposed to take place for another hour, but sometimes there was something to be said for being the first one to arrive. In this case, he, Rhodey, Peter, Nebula and Winter had the chance to get more comfortable in the space before anyone else got here. 

It had been about five weeks since Thanos was officially defeated. As Tony had expected, Rogers and his crew had been offered pardons for their work in taking Thanos down. However, things hadn't been all sunshine and roses for them. Tony had been keeping an eye on social media outlets in particular, and the general opinion of the Avengers right now was overwhelmingly negative. Steve Rogers should _never_ have been allowed to make that announcement, Tony thought for the millionth time. The public had not taken very well to Rogers proclaiming that _everyone_ had been saved, only for it gradually come to light that several people had remained dead.

Someone must've taken hold of Rogers's reins after that, because in the ensuing weeks Tony hadn't seen any more of Rogers or the others on television. In a way, that had almost hurt them more: it made them look like cowards for not responding to the backlash. But Tony was well aware of how completely clueless Rogers could be when it came to talking to other people. It was entirely possibly that anything more Rogers said or did would be taken in the wrong way. Whoever had put the kibosh on any more public appearances must have been aware of that. Tony suspected it was probably Romanov.

Life sucked, apparently, when you didn't have someone like Tony funding a full public relations team for you.

The Accords Council had requested a meeting of the Avengers once Rogers and his crew got back on US soil. On the one hand, Tony was very tempted to tell them all to fuck off. On the other hand, he could admit to be a morbid sense of curiosity. In spite of himself, he wanted to see what they'd been up to since beating Thanos. But there was another reason too, one that Tony hadn't shared with anyone. Since he'd returned to Earth, and taking up living with Winter and Nebula, his feelings towards the Avengers had changed. Simply put, Tony just... didn't care anymore. He wanted to make sure that was still the case when he was face to face with them.

"I don't like it," Rhodey repeated stubbornly, drawing Tony's attention back to him.

"Okay, you sound like Peter," Tony said.

"Who sounds like me?" Spider-Man asked, walking into the room with Nebula and Winter on his heels. Of them all, he was the only one who was wearing his suit. His identity was still a secret, and Tony saw no reason for anyone to know who he was.

"Rhodey does," Tony said.

"I'm guessing that's not a compliment," said Winter, moving over to sit beside Tony. He looked amazing in a tailored grey suit; the suit had strands of light blue woven into it, which matched the light blue tie Winter had on. Paired with a white shirt and polished black shoes, the combination brought out his eyes and the blue streaks in his shoulder-length hair. He was wearing his hair in a low ponytail today, clasped neatly at the base of his neck. It was Tony's very professional opinion that Winter looked like a million bucks.

"It's not," Nebula confirmed. She had opted to wear the uniform Tony had designed for her, which was very similar in look to what she'd been wearing when she landed on Earth but was very different in design and practice. Her suit had been designed for agility, and Tony almosy hoped he'd get the chance to see her in action against Romanov or Barton. 

"Hey," Spider-Man said, and Tony knew without being able to see his face that he was pouting.

"It's okay, kid. You're way more mature than Rhodey is," Tony said.

"Watch it, Stark," Rhodey growled, waving a mock-threatening fist at him, and Tony chuckled. 

They sat and chatted for several minutes before Nebula stiffened suddenly. "FRIDAY says they're here."

"Ugh," Tony muttered, grateful for the hand Winter laid on his arm. "Let's get this over with." He stood up, and so did his friends.

Approximately one minute and twenty-eight seconds later, the door opened again to reveal Steve Rogers. Rogers blinked at the sight of them, clearly not having expected them to be here already, but recovered quickly and stepped inside. Right behind him were Barnes, Wilson, Romanov, Barton, Lang, Maximoff and Vision. Tony felt a tiny sting at the sight of Vision; that was the last part of JARVIS that he had, but this whole thing had forced him to come to terms with the fact that Vision was definitely not JARVIS and never would be. 

"Tony, you're okay," Rogers said earnestly, looking right at Tony.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Tony asked.

"Well, when I heard the Winter Soldier was with you..." Rogers trailed off, turning his head slightly to take in Winter. There was a beat of silence while the two men silently sized each other up. Tony thought he could see surprise in Rogers's eyes, and couldn't contain a smirk. 

"But I told you that Winter wasn't dangerous. In fact, he and I have been very happy together," Tony said, impulsively linking his arms through Winter's. 

"And here I thought you couldn't stoop any lower, Stark," Romanov said.

"You say that as though Winter isn't a good person," Nebula said, folding her arms. 

Romanov frowned, looking at her. "He's a dangerous assassin."

"Do you know that for a fact?" Nebula wanted to know, cocking her head. "From what I understand, there were _two_ minds inhabiting that body. Seems pretty stupid of you to immediately assume that Winter is the one who is dangerous."

Rogers swelled, eyes flashing. "Bucky isn't dangerous! None of that was his fault!" he shouted.

Tony rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. It hadn't even been five minutes and already Rogers was falling back on his oft-repeated rhetoric. He had to wonder how many more times he'd be forced to listen to that bullshit. Rogers could say whatever he wanted: Barnes _was_ dangerous. Even before he'd been kidnapped by Hydra, Barnes had been a sharpshooter in the war. He'd killed a lot of people. He'd also killed people even after escaping Hydra's control. He was not the angel that Rogers seemed so determined to make him out to be.

“Yeah, okay, let’s not start that again,” Rhodey said, seemingly thinking along the same lines as Tony. “Sit down, Rogers, and let’s get this over with.”

One by one, the others sat down. Maximoff scowled at Tony, who met her glare evenly. He’d never cared about Maximoff, and he wasn’t about to start now. But as his eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar faces of his former teammates, he realized that held true for all of them: the fear, the concern, the worry, all that baggage that used to weigh him down when it came to the Avengers was really gone.

He didn’t care what happened to them. He really didn’t.

The door opened again and three representatives of the Council entered. One of them, a petite, dark-skinned woman wearing a tailored cream suit, moved to the front of the room. She waited for the general chatter to die down, which took a few minutes: Tony was amused when one of the other representatives finally had to shush Barton and Lang to stop them from talking.

“Good morning. My name is Kayla and I am here to guide you through what’s going to happen next,” she said. “Our first order of business is making sure that everyone in this room still wants to be an Avenger.”

“Of course we all do,” Rogers said. 

“Well, some of us were never actually Avengers to start with,” Winter pointed out, indicating Nebula and himself. 

“Someone will talk to you privately after the meeting if you’re interested. If you’re not, you can go,” Kayla said.

Winter and Nebula both glanced at Tony. He shook his head slightly. He wasn’t sure yet where this was going, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel on the Avengers just yet. He had some vague thoughts about forming their own team – him, Nebula, Winter, Rhodey, and Spider-Man – but was putting that on the backburner until he saw what kind of rules were going to be imposed on the Avengers.

Okay, that was a lie. He was waiting to throw that out there until the right moment when it would cause Rogers the most panic. 

Then, unexpectedly, Barnes stood up. “I’ll just go, then.”

“What?!” Rogers exclaimed, shooting to his feet. “Bucky, no! Don’t let Tony’s actions throw you off. You deserve this!” He threw Tony a nasty glare, as though Tony had said or done something in the five minutes since Barnes had walked into the room.

Barnes shook his head. “It has nothing to do with Stark. I just don’t want this, Stevie.”

Tony snuck a quick look around the room, curious. Judging by the surprised looks on every face, no one had seen this coming. Not even Romanov, and he knew how much she hated that. Tony smirked at her. She glowered back at him.

“Buck, how can you not want this? This was our dream!” Rogers said passionately, flinging a hand out to indicate the room at large. “We can keep Tony under control, I swear.”

Tony bristled. Yeah, that idle thought about a separate team was now a full-fledged, definitely-going-to-happen thought. There was no way he was ever working with these pricks again. The Council wouldn’t be able to turn him down, either. Not if they were willing to accept the X-Men, the Fantastic Four, and the Defenders as their own individual teams, and he already knew they had.

“Excuse me?” Winter said dangerously. “Tony hasn’t done anything, and _you_ will _not_ be doing anything to him.” 

Nebula, beside him, looked equally livid. She was quiet, but she was also fingering a dagger with an expression that suggested she was calculating the best way to tear out Rogers’ throat with only one well-aimed throw.

“Listen, you –” Maximoff began.

“Enough!” Barnes shouted. “I’m not enhanced anymore.”

Everyone went quiet. Then, weakly, Rogers whispered, “What?”

“I’m not… I’m just a normal human. I’m not any stronger.” Barnes punched the table. Nothing happened, except that he grimaced and shook his hand out after. Tony stared at the table, stunned. If Rogers had punched it – if _Winter_ had punched it…

“Because Bucky Barnes was never enhanced,” Tony said slowly in realization. “The Winter Solider was.” He looked at Winter, who looked as shocked as Tony felt. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rogers said, stunned.

“I tried. You never let me talk. You were always going on about what ‘we’ wanted.” Barnes sighed and rubbed a hand through his shorn hair. “I don’t want this. I’m so sick of all the fighting. I don’t – can I leave?” He looked over at Kayla.

“Of course,” Kayla said gently. “Siobhan, would you please escort Mr. Barnes out of the room and take him somewhere quiet where he can wait? Perhaps the meeting room down the hall.”

“Absolutely.” A red-haired woman got up and came around the table, skirting the area where the Avengers sat, and smiled tentatively at Barnes. “Right this way, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky, no!” Rogers leapt up and grabbed for Barnes’ arm. Barnes, surprisingly, jerked away.

“No!” he growled. “ _I don’t want this_. I’m _tired_.” He looked, for a moment, like he might cry.

“Mr. Rogers, control yourself or I’ll call security,” Kayla snapped.

“I volunteer to take him out if you need me to,” Nebula said.

“Oh, me too!” Winter said with a smirk.

“You don’t touch him,” Maximoff hissed, her eyes flashing red.

“Wanda,” Vision said quietly.

Winter’s smirk cooled, gaze turning positively glacial in a way Tony was too familiar with. “I’d be careful who you threaten, _Witch_ ,” he hissed. “I remember exactly what you did at the hands of Hydra, and next time you’ll be lucky to walk away with just a broken arm.”

Maximoff recoiled, and Romanov leaned over in front of her. “Who’s the dangerous one now?” she hissed at Nebula.

That was all it took for arguments to break out all over the room. The only people who weren’t yelling were Rogers, who was staring at the door with a dumbstruck look on his face, Tony, Wilson, Lang, Vision, and the Council members. Kayla had facepalmed and was shaking her head. Vision refused to meet Tony’s gaze, staring fixedly at the table. Tony was a little surprised to see that Wilson and Lang weren’t joining in on defending Rogers and Barnes, but Lang in particular just seemed fed up. 

Fair. Tony was fed up too.

He stood, which had the remarkable effect of making the whole room go silent. “I think it’s obvious that this is not going to work,” he said to Kayla. “With all due respect, my team will be taking our leave now. We’ll be in touch later with the proper paperwork.”

“Running away again, Stark?” Barton spat.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Barton,” Tony replied, “but no. I just don’t see the point in wasting anyone’s time. I have better things to do than sit here and be insulted.”

Barton snorted, but it was Romanov who spoke. “You know if you leave now you’ll never be an Avenger again.”

That wasn’t her call to make, but Tony was past the point of pointing that out. He just shook his head. “What makes you think I want to be one?”

It was satisfying to watch her go silent, clearly not knowing what to say to that; he wondered, torn between amusement and resignation, if she’d really thought he would throw himself before them on bended knee and plead to be allowed back onto the team. Knowing them? Probably. They always did think highly of themselves. And who knows, at one point Tony might have done just that. 

But not anymore.

Again, he spoke to Kayla. “Thank you for your time.”

Kayla nodded. “A member of my office will be in touch, Mr. Stark. Louis, would you please escort Mr. Stark and his team out of the building?”

Louis stood and gestured to the door. “Right this way, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony!” Rogers suddenly seemed to jolt out of his stupor. “Don’t go.”

“Why would I stay?” Tony asked, genuinely curious.

“We can fix this,” Rogers said. “We can make things go back to how it was before.”

Tony raised his eyebrows because wow, there was a lot he could’ve said to that. But he realized then that it wasn’t necessary. Rogers was never going to change; he couldn’t even see that there had been anything wrong before. He couldn’t see that Tony would rather die than go back to how things had been before, when he was burning himself out for scraps of attention and was stuck with a team that hated and mocked and lied to him.

“No,” he said simply. “We can’t.”

Rogers began to argue, but Tony tuned him out as he strolled out of the room. He could hear Spider-Man and Rhodey snickering to each other as they went down the hall, and Nebula muttering about Romanov. But what had happened today didn’t irk Tony nearly as much, mostly because it was exactly what he had to come to expect from the Avengers. If anything, as he walked into the elevator, he realized that he felt _free_.

“Alright?” Winter asked, pressing up against him. The elevator wasn’t that small, but Tony welcomed the contact.

“You know what, I really am,” Tony said. He looked around at his team – they’d need a name, but they’d worry about that later – and smiled. “I really am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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